


Inadequate

by TearoomSaloon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, they bang okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/TearoomSaloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's how she felt, anyway. He wasn't her first and she was so sure that he would be like the rest and wouldn't be able to satisfy her. If he did, well...she would be more than pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inadequate

**Author's Note:**

> This smut got pretty fluffy and sweet. This is not the angsty hate sex you're looking for.

 

The first time Rey had sex it was a bit of a let down.

Six months after the Battle of Starkiller Base, the Resistance had a huge victory against the First Order. Cheering and celebrations tied up all personnel for the whole night, members drinking and laughing with each other for the first time in weeks. Rey had never really drunk that much before and made peace with the excuse to have fun with her fellow pilots and crewmembers (for she served as an X-wing pilot for the battle).

Clapping Finn on the back, she smiled a huge smile, telling him useless details she had now long forgotten. They talked together, enraptured, not separating for the rest of the evening. She had been worried about him, worried about how he would fair on the ground while she took to the skies, but he had come back in one piece, and so had she.

In an early hour after midnight, they retreated to her room for small drinks and a bite to eat. It had taken mere minutes before they were wrapped up together, arms and lips tangled, the way to the bed full of half-trips and laughter. Clothes about and drunken decision made, she snaked her arms around his shoulders when he entered her and she winced, sucking in a painful breath.

It…didn't work out too well. Smarting all over, Rey gave up almost as soon as it started, lying back into her pillows, the space between her legs raw. He apologized, but there was nothing he had to say, she knew it wasn't his fault—it was hers, somehow. They curled up close to sleep and it took too long for the weight to leave her chest.

They joked about it in the morning, having forgotten they'd fallen asleep beside each other. They chalked it up to the alcohol and the buzzing adrenaline. But it didn't matter—their friendship was stronger than one stupid night. They both waved it away and things went on as if not an inch were out of place.

The next time she had sex it was more intentional.

Two months after the first attempt, Poe took a liking to her and, with Finn's permission, made a sly move. She liked how he looked—dashing, handsome, and just a tad devilish. He took her out once or twice before they first kissed, and the feeling was more of a rush than it had been with Finn. He tasted nice and his hair was coarse but never tangled, letting her fingers comb through it with ease.

A month and a half after their courtship began, Rey found herself in Poe's bed, his strong arms cradling her as they rocked together. But it did not feel…right. She couldn't get herself to brim with pleasure they way he did while inside her. Over the next few weeks he tried everything, but she never felt comfortable and instead curled inward with guilt.

Seeing that this would do nothing but rip them apart, Rey broke off their affair. It was for the best, they both knew, and after a week of awkwardness, things were back to normal between them. They tried—it just hadn't been the right fit.

The next person she slept with was the one she swore she wouldn't touch in a million years.

A little more than a year after the destruction of Starkiller, the Darling of the First Order defected to the Resistance, pulled by his mother and his uncle to a brighter, but not a Light, stance. He was dragged up and into the higher chains of command and they rarely ran into each other, but she knew he was there, his dark eyes menacing and bored.

She knew there was tension between them—knew since that first encounter in the woods—but didn't know how _much_ until he kissed her hard in the middle of an argument to shut her up. Pulling away, he looked down at her in shock and she mirrored his expression, not sure why he did it or why she responded to his lips.

Moments that felt like eternities passed and she had the fabric of his tunic in her fists, pushing him down onto the sofa in the room, straddling his hips as his fingers threaded hungrily into her hair, pulling loose her buns. They kissed for over an hour like teenagers new to their sexualities, lips and teeth exploring but never getting further than ears and tongues. A comlink went off and interrupted them, bringing reality back to the surface. They parted ways at the door, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, neither quite hiding the sins of their attraction.

Where Poe had shown her off and was open about their involvement, Kylo was secretive and quiet, never so much as looking at her in the presence of another. It was a combination of embarrassment and who they both were, for she also tried her best to avoid him in public. Catching his eyes meant dealing with the heat that rose steadily from her stomach to her face, something she had trouble hiding.

She knew he liked her, though, knew he enjoyed her company and touch. He would steal her away into alcoves and empty rooms to purloin a few kisses before disappearing, his black robes fluttering like raptor wings, graceful and dark. They never did this more than a few times in a week, and never on her terms—he was excellent at disappearing until he wanted to be seen. She could feel his amusement through their bond when she did attempt to search him out, not once coming close to his hiding places.

About a month after the first encounter, he appeared to her at night, sitting in the armchair in her room when she returned from a shower, flimsiplast open in his hands. He seemed almost to not notice her as she entered with a towel around her hair, jaw dropping, her feet stuck in the middle of the room. He was bold—but she never expected him to be _this_ brazen.

"This is an interesting read," he said quietly, not looking up from the text. It was one of the novels Finn had gifted her for her birthday. One of her favorites, in fact.

"I lock my door for a reason."

"Do you? The passcode was so obvious I thought maybe it was just a diversion." His eyes caught hers and he smiled—or, what she had long ago decided was a smile. The corners of his lips raised so slightly, the expression only really evident in his gaze.

"Is this you getting bored with what we're doing?" she asked, unwrapping her hair and hanging the towel on the rack by her door.

"This is me asking to spend the night with you."

"Could have used your words, you know."

He cocked his head and closed the flimsy. "Is that a no?"

She sighed. "It's a whatever you want, Kylo."

He rose, his full height making her feel small. She was not short, but he was such a tall man—broad, too—that he dwarfed her when he wasn't careful of his body language. He crossed the room to her like a predator, his hands easily finding her hips. The way he courted always made heat bloom in her chest.

"Is that a _yes?_ "

"Do you _want_ it to be a yes?"

"I always want you to say yes to the things I fancy." He backed her against the bed slowly, nudging her down with a light push. "Things are so _fun_ when I get my way."

"But you hide from me in the open."

His face went sour and he stopped his advance. "I'm not ready for anyone else to know."

"Why not? It's been weeks."

"I don't know; I'm just not."

She sat up and folded her arms. "Then maybe I'm not ready to share a bed with you."

That cut him deeper than she wanted, but she held her ground—out of both her own hurt and fear of inadequacy. "I…I still need time to heal before I can…" He laid his bare hand lightly on her cheek and kissed her forehead so sweetly she had no doubts he wanted more from her than sex. "Maybe another night."

He left her and did not return for weeks.

She kept trying to find him in the base but came up dry and empty each time. She learned from Leia that he had been sent to Wild Space for a reconnaissance mission with a few other officers for two months. Her heart ached for those two months. And when he returned, it hurt worse.

He vanished whenever she tried to corner him, somehow disappearing from dead ends and open air. He must have made an excellent spy. When she finally did catch him he was unsuspecting of her presence and his look blackened when he saw her. He wanted nothing to do with her and it stabbed at her chest with an icicle blade.

"Haven't you found a new plaything yet?" he asked, his tone sharp and cutting.

"Absolutely not. I've missed you so much the pain is physical."

He brushed past her. "That makes one of us."

" _Kylo!_ " She caught his arm and he stopped before jerking away, his teeth bared.

"You wanted nothing to do with me if I couldn't be open, Rey."

She shook her head, her heart beating fast. "I thought you were too embarrassed to be seen with me."

He turned around fully, his anger replaced with confusion. " _Embarrassed?_ Why would I be embarrassed to be beside you?"

"I don't know. Because I'm loose; I've heard the girls talking."

His expression softened. "Jealousy is bound to rise with the way Poe speaks so highly of you. If you're concerned with that, you know…" He sighed, lowering the arm that had been reaching to her. "You know they'll say worse things if you're with me. I'm not well liked."

"That doesn't bother me, not if it doesn't bother you."

"I'm not…ready. I carry damage, Rey. A lot of it. I'm not good—I'm grey—and I don't want to subject you to watching me try to heal with eyes all over. I want to do it alone."

She took his hands, his fingers cold in hers. "At least let me sit beside you during the long nights."

"If you keep being this sweet, I'm going to cave."

She turned one of his hands over and kissed the center of his palm, closing his fingers around the gesture.

He sighed and pulled her close. "I hate you, you know that?"

"You have a really weird way of showing it."

They went back to their rhythm, running into each other in secluded spaces for no more than a few minutes. Now, however, he pressed far more affection to her through their bond, growing stronger the more she touched him. She had never felt further than the skin of his neck and soon she knew he would grow frustrated and tired of their limited contact. He needed more from her to keep calm.

Three weeks after his return, in the deepness of a particularly dark and hard night, he caved.

They were seated on her bed in the dark. He had woken her up and though she was groggy and tired, she stayed awake to rub his back, trying in vain to calm him down. His nightmares were horrible. They had gotten so much worse that she could feel his fear before he entered her room, not needing to say a word as he laid his head in her lap, still shaking from the fright.

He must have been like this when they first started seeing each other, she realized. How he had managed this by himself, she did not know, for he was an utter mess each time he visited in the dark. For the sake of his pride, she had not once taken notice of the tear tracks staining his cheeks.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this." His voice was hoarse and raw. "The darkness won't stop clawing at me."

"I'm here," she soothed, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting her head fall against the broad of his back. "I won't let it take you."

"I want you so badly to be enough, but I'm still afraid you're not."

She kissed the back of his neck, squeezing him tightly. "You know that I love you."

He turned in her arms, his face a mix of pain and elation. "No, actually. I didn't."

"Oh." She didn't expect her important confession to be so clumsy. "Well. Now you do."

He nodded, cupping her cheek and drawing her in. His kiss was needy and hurt, searching for a comfort he knew she could give. She let him in, hands stroking his back, anything to make him feel loved—something he had gone without for too long. So had she, but this was not about her.

Longing to feel more of her, he laid her down against the pillows, picking steadily at her pajamas. She let him free her breasts—she had no clue until this moment how much she _wanted_ his touch—but stopped him at the waistband of her pants. She snaked her hands under his shirt and he removed it easily, letting it fall somewhere unimportant. His skin against hers was hot and the sensation was like nothing before. He almost whined when their lips met again, mouth hungry and mind needy.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled against the column of her neck, one of his hands kneading a breast.

Her breath was hot. "Sorry for what?"

"I can feel that this is making you uncomfortable, so I'm sorry for needing you this badly."

"I…" She locked her fingers in his hair and drew him to her, her eyes matching his dark ones. "I don't want to feel uncomfortable."

He searched her face, lips pulling into a frown. "You've never climaxed before."

"What?" She pushed him away, shameful heat rising to her cheeks. "How can you know that?"

"Because you've just told me." He rested on his elbows, recovering the parts of their bodies that she separated. "You don't have to feel ashamed."

"But I'm broken," she admitted quietly, sinking away from him. "Please don't try."

He went back to kissing her neck, having found a new thing to occupy his fraying mind. "Why not? I want to make you feel good."

"Because it won't work and I'll feel guilty about it."

"Rey." He stopped, mouth hovering over her clavicle. "Never feel guilty about that."

"Will trying make you feel better?" she asked, letting her hands fall to his shoulders.

"Much better."

Taking a deep breath, she sealed her fate. "All right, then. If it helps you."

He rose to his knees and hooked his thumbs in the fabric of her pajama pants, pulling them down and sliding them from her legs. She watched his face as he sat back admiring her, a flushed heat climbing steadily down her spine. His admiration was palpable and she knew she was blushing heavily under his stare.

"I knew you were beautiful," he said quietly, hands resting on her knees, "but I didn't know you were the most bewitching thing I've ever seen."

She hid her face in her hands, incredibly self-conscious.

He descended like a hungry beast, his mouth catching a breast, the other gripped by a free hand. His tongue flicked across her nipple and her back arched, a moan building in her ribs. He moved his hand down her stomach and slipped his fingers into her underwear, stopping when he grazed by her wetness.

"That isn't all for me," he breathed, mouth still hot on her skin. "You can't…you really want me that much?"

" _Need_ you," she corrected, her lungs not catching enough air as his fingers played against her heat.

"Well, in that case…" He slipped one long digit inside, curling it back against a wall that was more sensitive than she knew. The groan from her lips was needy and pitiful, almost a whimper. Encouraged by her sounds, he continued the motion, drawing his touch slowly across whatever part of her made her sing so loudly. Each stroke built up a moan and she was panting in seconds, right at the edge of a tall plateau, never quite making it to the top.

"How does it feel?" he asked, holding her gaze.

" _Gods_ ," she sobbed as his thumb rubbed against her clit in a slow circular arc.

"Good?"

Her response wasn't a coherent word.

He smirked before ducking down, moving his busy hand to rest against the inside of her thigh. She almost screamed when the pressure lifted, legs aching, insides begging for his touch. Lacing hot kisses down her stomach, he moved her panties aside to run his tongue across her once. She almost cried.

"And how is that?"

"Go back, go _back_."

"Back here?" He crawled up to her face and kissed her cheek, his length hard against her belly.

"You are the _worst_." Huffing, she reached her own fingers down to quell the burning between her legs.

He caught her wrist, instead bringing her hand up to feel his arousal. "You can touch _here_ , but only I get to touch _you_ , understand?"

"Why are you all of a sudden such a _tease?_ "

"Because I need to torture you a little to get you to come."

Returning to her need, he took the waistband of her underwear in his teeth and stripped them away, tossing them somewhere behind him. Locking his arms around her thighs, he dipped his head, breath hot against her newly bare skin. He let her hips squirm under his grip a moment before meeting her heat with his mouth, sliding his tongue gracefully inside her. She bucked and he chuckled, moving his nose against her clit, still ravishing her with his tongue.

He quickened his pace when her chest heaved with another loud sound, fighting hard against his hold to match his rhythm. He was skilled—so goddamn skilled—and she thought she was going to burst. This same act with Poe had felt more like a dog at a meal. Kylo instead was a musician, playing her easily with precise ministrations. More notes followed from her throat when a finger entered her, his lips moving up to attend to her clit.

After what felt like an eternity in the stars, she shot off, the universe turning into a blank white slate. Nothing happened in this nothingness and she was no longer a corporeal being, turning to ether and stardust.

She heard her own release before recognizing it, flames and lightning shooting all through her nerves, body heavy and made of gelatin. Panting, she raised her head with difficulty to see his dark hair still crowded between her legs.

He looked up, grinning. "Told you."

"Get up here, it's your turn."

He moved up to meet her, letting out a small growl as her hands fumbled clumsily with his pants. Her dexterity was gone forever, she decided. He removed them himself and kicked the rest of his clothes away onto the floor.

She swallowed. He was big, bigger than she had anticipated, and she was a little nervous he wouldn't fit.

"It'll be fine," he soothed, wrapping one of her hands around his hard cock, his fingers sticky and soiled on hers. Soiled with _her_.

"How do you like this?" she asked, her free hand pushing him down into the sheets so she could straddle his legs.

He hummed. "Like that, maybe just a little harder."

She pulled up his length and swirled her thumb around his head, taking a dark pleasure in the way his eyes rolled back and how the air left his lungs. The sound he made was heady and gruff and she felt herself grow wet again.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Greatly." She rose on her knees, dragging his tip along her entrance. He growled, hands gripping her hips to pull her down on him.

He was _big_. She winced in pain for the first few shallow thrusts, not ready to accommodate his size. He noticed and moved one hand to her clit, massaging her back into a heightened arousal. "Slowly," he said with little breath, moaning low when she let him all the way inside.

The fullness made her cry out, digging her nails into his shoulders. She might break in two, but the way—gods, _gods_ —the way his tip stroked the same spot his fingers found made it okay. If she were going to die tonight, she preferred it be in ecstasy from the way his cock made her feel.

She groaned low and guttural when he took over, falling forward onto her elbows to allow him a better angle. She had to bite down on his neck to prevent the curling scream building in her chest from coming out. He growled in her ear and she felt herself begin to slip away again.

"Gods, Ben. _Ben_ ," she whined at her second climax, nuzzling down into the crook of his neck.

He thrusted harder and she thought she was going to explode, almost doubling over again when he came, his voice strangled with hot need. The sound of him drown in the pleasure of her was like no better sensation before, making a home in the depths of her core.

She rolled off him, panting hard against his chest. He was equally exhausted and took a minute before turning to face her, the look in his eyes softer than anything she'd seen before.

"Poe must be a shit lover," he said when he caught his breath.

She laughed, running her hand down his flat stomach and to his small hip. "Or maybe you're really good."

"That was pretty wonderful, I'll admit." He kissed her forehead, a hand warm on her cheek. "You called me Ben."

"I…I guess it slipped out. Was it bad?"

"No." His lips moved down to hers, his kiss sweet and satiated. "I like how my name sounds on your mouth. Private almost."

"Should I call you Ben when we're alone?"

He bit his lip in thought. "Yes. I think I'd like that. But I'm warning you, it'll just make me want to kiss you harder."

"Sounds good, _Ben_."

He smiled before pressing his lips to hers again, a warm happiness spreading in her chest. They'd beaten the darkness tonight. "You know that I love you too."

"I do," she said, hugging him closer, falling soundly asleep in his arms.


End file.
